


Flying

by breath_e



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Blood, First Meetings, M/M, Slavery, Violence, anyway, death mention, rape mention, this ship is so sad for me and idk why
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-16
Updated: 2015-06-16
Packaged: 2018-04-04 15:19:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4142643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/breath_e/pseuds/breath_e
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Anonymous asked: "Psiioniic and Signless, Maybe?? :33"</p><p>One of the most wonderful things you ever remember was in this moment, not first meeting the boy, or him, but when one of the inmates, the oldest one complexion wise, with tired, sad eyes and drooping skin around it, bones that creak and wobble stood from his miserable crouch shoved the postkeep and grabbed your waist swiftly. It was so sudden, him pushing you to the tips of the fence as he shouted, voice weary and dry, eyes desperate and wide.</p><p>“Run, child, run!” A dead man</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flying

**Author's Note:**

> hhhhh this is old but i decided to post it so ;^)

_With every breath you were hopeless and every glance piercing curiosity from temptation and dread a hundred times greater than they claim you were worth. Such emotions are found in the purest of souls, corrupted by glares of dead eyes and blood leaking from their newest cuts._

 

In the confines of the dank, sweaty cells of one of Alternia's many trading posts. You remember the details as if it were written as it was happened, although that would be preposterous, for you were never taught to write, or read for that matter. Shackles covered your scarred, raw wrists and ankles, weighing you down, keeping you an fatigued, grim state that seemed to cloud the room, stirring over the hopeless people like millions of tiny insects eating off of your yellow blood and moving onto the next stock. Seldom noise was heard other than the fuzzy drone of commoners rushing about to get inside before curfew, spending their last copper coin on a scrap of grubloaf, the rest already given to the government as tax, an awful heavy one at that.

 

Conversation was little in that room, the floor littered with hay, mostly bundled in piles for pillows for the night, or excrement that filled the air with thick smog that made your throat tighten. The others kept in packs, in circles, barely breathing in the humid air. Some of them laid on the concrete walls, trying to cool down in the small confines. You sat alone, eyes lidded and back slumped. Every now and again. eye contact would be held with another, blue and red clashing like a mirror, but it would be instantly broken. You wouldn't bear seeing the others, certain that's what you look as well. Pathetic, skinny, and stained with the florescent blood you share.

 

Your stomach growled, an instant reaction through the room.Their eyes, wide and curious scanned you from afar, nodding it off. You turn your back on them, avoiding their harsh glares or pitiful stares. I can't take it, I can't take this, playing with your dirty toes, breathing shallow, you thought of why you deserved this. Why you deserve the scars on your back or the migraines that rip through you as you work. But you didn't deserve that and that's just the thing. You did not know of your name, or your age, just that you are in good shape and around five feet tall. You did not have an identity nor a reason to survive so why do you? You could've ask one of your inmates to rip you apart, but what would that do to them? Haunt them with your shrieks and pained laughter as death overcomes you like a spark. These people were all you had, you couldn't terrorize them with a burden they would keep forever. Your life may had only begun but you were wise, confident of that.

 

You're not sure how long you were there, but as you looked from the barred windows, the bright green moon you gazed upon on a great occasion shown for you. It was entrancing that night, a full moon and a clear navy sky, telling you of the cosmos. Unconsciously, you struggled to your thin legs, wobbling the slightest as your hazy senses sent you to it, hands grasping onto the rusty columns. Your shackles clanged, barely allowing you forward under the steel. The sky was stunning, naturally, but there seemed to by something off, from the handful of times you soaked it in, there was something you didn't see. Closing your eyes, you twitched you ear towards the outside buzzing. Tiny rodents scampered to and fro freely. A ping of jealousy shot through you as you watched them bound, but then that same dread stirred in your stomach. You were jealous of rats.

 

A flicker appeared from afar, the great end of the mall, the small woodland area between lawnrings, but it was probably fireflies. You know better now, but then, it seemed like there would never be anyone at this dead of night, merely said rodents and escaped lusii. You blinked once, twice at the source, pondering your sanity, but shrugging it off. You hunched over, ready to step down from your perch and back to your hallow when it happened again, only more pronounced and most definitely closer. Your hands danced back to the bars and you pulled yourself upward slightly more. In numerals, the flickering continued, barely visible to a light glimmering, hovering in the streets.

 

The clanging of your shackles seemed to grab the attention of the others, stirring them as they looked at the probably mad or sick boy. Finally, with your heart hammering in your chest, it was clear a silhouette appeared within the source, two from either side, both lighting a flame for a second, abandoning it in seconds. You couldn't help your mouth but flickering upward. They continued to trek closer and closer until you were sure they were traveling, defying law for you. To break the bars and pull you out into the night where you could run freely, feel the fresh air and cleanse yourself of this burden, but that was just a child's dream. You pushed away from the window, rubbing your puffy eyes.

 

Your mind drifted away, into darker, more conservative corners while you heard the soft patter of the pair's footsteps and swept away into nothingness.

 

_With every step you take into the courtyard, you keen, vulnerable and open to the mischievous eyes of those greater.The stars sprinkle and wisp away with storms stomping forth and beating the light, driven mad from centuries burning and centuries lost._

 

A heavy hand brought you to your knees as you shudder, cuffs constraining your rage, clanking against the worn dirt that still can roam the winds and escape to the heavens beckoning closer as the older troll entangled his hand into your hair, but fortunately not for very long. Your sparks pulsed into his fingertips, stroking his flames to amber and kick your side from a moment lost, but ever forgotten with his might. His gruff voice called to the tradespeople, bringing you to your bare toes and above, hanging you from burlap too stable to allow for breath to wonder. Gagging, you began to thrash, looking rapidly to your people, broken faces fixated on the wires surrounding the courtyard. They stood in line like toy soldiers, ready to strike or be stuck, turning into ash and dust, forgotten to those who broke them and lost for those who needed them most. He threw you to the dirt, skidding on developing scabs as others tradesmen bind rope to your hands and legs. You watched with a frown.

 

He placed seven shimmering coins into the tradesman's palm, smiling grimly as he heaved you to his shoulder. Avoiding any other damage, you relaxed your muscles, yet with each bounce of his trudging, it doesn't do you any good, eventually being tossed into a splintering wagon. You yelped, tensing over the tearing of your flesh against sharp hay and wood. Unfortunately, the jingling of your collar as you whiplash with the bumps of the wagon reminded you nonetheless of the chores ahead, it was pailing season, after all. You tried to sit with perfect poise, scrapping the hateful glares from commoners with a sense of unapologetic superiority. One stare, however sent you off your stoic expression of numbness. A perfect smile, dull teeth and golden, untainted eyes shoot to you with a curt wave. You averted your eyes, looking to the cuts on your toes. Niceness, from what you learned from personal experience, it just a mask for deception in the end.

 

His smile drops, setting his jaw to turn to the tall woman in jade, tugging rapidly on the fresh hems of his Merlot cloak down over his medallion orbs.

 

You almost shouted to him.

 

Time eventually slipped from you just as you felt repugnant, violated , and most of all ridiculed as you succumb to the tight binding on your blood to your bones and your head to the bruises on your hips screaming as you tremble to the room with a kick to the ribs. You shuddered, bile rising as your shoulder skids against concrete. Sweat accumulated, a deep sting passing through your frame when you pull yourself to your knees, heaving onto the floor as you gag, tears breaking through with stifled sobs mixed with the overwhelmed breaths of those around you. They shuffled, but that's all the best, leaving you to dry heave as your heart stutters and thumps your entire body.

 

The stars drifted by the weeks, telling you of the days that sweep by, so as you collapse on the floor, wiping vomit from the corners of your mouth, you sigh, almost liberated of tomorrow- for you were to be shipped off to another post and another until someone of higher rank takes you under there wing for endless labor to pierce through your muscles. The worse had culminated, terror diminishing as you drag through the vile confines, looking to the flint and coin stars for something greater than what you were; a last resort, a child, and a slave.

 

You dragged your feet, swaying as you held to the coal smeared bars and the sweet smell of the night petrichor wafted to you, a calming astonished breath catching in your throat. You'd grown rusty, arms pulsing and locking and your throat creaking and stopping, so you closed you eyes, hoping for an alarm to sound before getting caught with lidded eyes and a head propped out of iron bars.

 

“Excuse me.” A small and seemingly familiar voice cooed, soft toes poking at your shoulders. You blinked, groggily yawning with a stretch that rattled through your every cell in agony. A figure towered over you, an oil gaze set through the most shocking dandelion eyes. His cape swooshed as he settled with hands strapped tightly over his knees, “Are you okay?” His peculiar voice lowered, another following like a lullaby in a tide of maternal guidance.

 

“Kankri, you started him.” She spoke eloquently, appearing out of the fogged skies and moving stars- a billion years too far. The boy whispered an apology, rattling through a bag of sorts to pull out an object falsely seen through plots in your vision. He patted in into your worn fists, scooting away as his mother leaned down next to him, “Now, don't eat it all at once.”

 

Blinking, you gripped onto the soft object, hazily recalling it to be a scrap of grubloaf. The boy grinned, shuffling onto his feet as he saluted, bouncing on the balls of his heels as he turns, his cloak skirting mere inches from your eyes. Her concerned glance and his joyful running is all you remember of the two before a dim oblivion settles and spreads before you locked away into the cruel world under slim kindness and that one act of pure benevolence. You let them slip away. 

 

_Tens of millions of tiny whispers told you to follow, run with the souls of those you once glimpsed upon that are swept away like robots being shut down one after one, tingling into your existence like pins as you wonder the courtyard like it was a graveyard. And so you did._

 

The moon glared overhead as your pitiful cellmates gloomily kept to themselves in the courtyard. It was an advertising technique for this area to get more coins for the last day until you were shipped off again, but it still put a pit in your stomach as the people off this small town would lock eyes with your own or another slave's. You rubbed the sore spots on your ankles, hissing as yellow started to ooze like slugs. The stars were starting to culminate this night but you didn't want it to end, just to spend another long trek to the next with sores on your feet that break into your and pulse with every step.

 

You scanned the village people, all of their worn hands and judgment plastered onto their faces like masks until the nerve caved into your legs, a jittery feeling that pricked with the hairs on your nape. You followed its imaginary trail to its genesis, a spot on the flat horizon just behind yourself. Two figures slipping into the forest swiftly and one of them turned back- the boy you saw before with the eyes that shone like a million suns of curiosity and beauty. He turned away from you, shaking his head as he followed the other into the forest. Murmurs coaxed your ears in venom as you suddenly broke, a tight shimmering-feeling running up your back as you ran to the edge of the fencing.

 

“Wait!” Your voice croaked. The sound of awed breaths followed from the free people and the other slaves alike like a symphony you've waited so long to hear it tingled the tips of your ears with every shuffled release. “Wait! Don't leave me!” You were screaming now through the stunned silence, cracking and pleading, “Please don't leave me!” It was a desperate keen to the forest and the people who showed just a tiny bit of compassion- yet nothing sounded more pathetic and manic.

 

It's working, your mind shrieked in delight as the boy turned around, face from fallen to a wide grin that stretched to his ears- a work of art on its own. He held out his hand and beckoned you to him, yards away but you've never felt so close. You didn't take notice of the post-keep's arms struggling to contain you backward, but the shock running through you, blinding you invincible as he curses as draws his hand back from you, shouting something that sounded so foreign. You, breathlessly, called for the boy again- his name is Kankri, you recall, stifling laughter as you struggled with the fencing like jungle vines. Sparks cascaded from you sharply and minimally, a pounding in your chest rising, memorizing where he went.

 

One of the most wonderful things you ever remember was in this moment, not first meeting the boy, or him, but when one of the inmates, the oldest one complexion wise, with tired, sad eyes and drooping skin around it, bones that creak and wobble stood from his miserable crouch shoved the postkeep and grabbed your waist swiftly. It was so sudden, him pushing you to the tips of the fence as he shouted, voice weary and dry, eyes desperate and wide.

 

“Run, child, run!” A dead man. You clawed at the fence, vaulting over and holding your arms out, wind hitting your face in such a pleasure, your lungs choked and twitched, legs hitting the ground and buckling beneath you, dust stirring in your eyes that clench shut as the world spun and pulled you under. Your legs ached but you somehow managed to pull yourself up and flee- legs almost flying like a free bird as others cheered, some gawked, and most cursed under the overall pounding convulsing every atom you hold. Everything was slow moving as your fingers reached to the sky, feet sinking into the freedom you now held in your hand like gold.

 

You saw them waiting for you and here you are. Hands stretched out to you, clasping your own, sweaty, palm as you began to pant, their eyes soft and delighted after what seemed like hours of running, side splitting into you. They pant with you, laughing as they drag their packs just over their shoulders. The older of the two trolls sets her hands a hand on her hips and another on the younger of the two's shoulder. His smile could have ended wars, the way it was filled with such a delightful purr, coating his face is a red hue. Now you can see him. Truly see him, a hopeful gleam pressing your throat to the skies as you cry out, slumping down to find him in your arms as your lungs quiver with your heartbeat. There's nothing special about him whatsoever but he somehow inspired you to claw out of the caverns of your own demise to this beautiful symphony of lovely emotion that rake through you like knives that have never been used- a horrid feeling that you're addicted to already.

 

“I'm thorry,” You manage, shaking against him as the older troll soothingly pats the burlap clothing that scratches against your skin with the warm, liquid nothingness it sinks into you, “Thank you,”

 

“Don't be,” He whispers, coddling your face into his shoulder. You've finally found your place with the stars, a peaceful solemn melody every bird sings together and every slave cried to during their sleep. You've captured the stars and you are never giving them to the dark blues of the night again.

 

“Pleasthe don't make me go back.”

 

“Wouldn't dream of it.”

**Author's Note:**

> I MIGHT WRITE MORE TO THIS IF I HAD MOTIVATION  
> ppptc hh  
> fuck that noise in particular


End file.
